Molly spread the blueprints of 'Kiddie Kingdom Party World' across the cluttered kitchen table, her eyes scanning the various play areas and security checkpoints. Bill poured himself a cup of lukewarm coffee, examining the room plans over her shoulder. The plan was to blend in with the chaos of screaming children and harried parents, making their way to the coveted present table. Bill leaned in, his breath whispering against Molly's ear, "You sure they won't have a few layers of armor on that present table?" Molly's right eyebrow twitched with amusement. "Kid's parties are all about minimal security, Bill. We're more likely to trip over a toddler in a princess costume than run into an ex-Special Forces operative." Shifting her weight onto one hip, Molly began tracing a possible security route with her index finger, circling potential pitfalls and areas of high foot traffic. The reward was worth the risks - a reportedly £10,000 haul of state-of-the-art toys and glittering trinkets, on display and easily accessible. As they studied the blueprints, a shared glance communicated a question: Which of them would wear the 'I'm a kids' entertainer' disguise, replete with oversized shoes and a floppy wig?